Page:Sonnetsfromcrime00mick.djvu/40

In Spring of love and life, My Polish Rose,You faded and forgot the joy of youth;Bright butterfly, it brushed you, then left ruthOf bitter memory that stings and glows.O Stars! that seek a path my northland knows,How dare you now on Poland shine forsooth,When she who loved you and lent you her youthSleeps where beneath the wind the long grass blows?

Alone, My Polish Rose, I die, like you.Beside your grave a while pray let me restWith other wanderers at some grief's behest.The tongue of Poland by your grave rings true.High-hearted, now a young boy past it goes,Of you it is he sings, My Polish Rose.